Kids Are Gross. I Can Prove It.

I know, I know. Children are a gift from on high. They are cherubs filled will happiness here to bestow upon us blessing upon blessing. We love them.

They’re still gross.

But not my child, I’m sure you’re saying. Not my lil’ darling! How dare you! Yes, your child. I have three beautiful nieces myself. They are wonderful in every way. They are fun loving and full of life. They have eyes that sparkle and smiles that will melt your heart. When they laugh, you’d swear angels are singing. But they’re still gross.

To make my point, I will use examples from my time as a teacher. To prove that it is far reaching, I will use one example from each of the 3 grade levels I have taught. And to illustrate that I have more evidence where this comes from, I will limit myself to only using one one bodily excretion as an example … snot.

Exhibit 1 is a third grader who very innocently removed his hoodie and left it hanging from the back of his chair. Well, that was not the only thing he left behind. Being the caring, gracious educator that I am, I wanted to return his sweatshirt to him before recess so he wouldn’t catch a cold. Apparently, I was too late. He had left a trail of infected goo from the neck of the shirt all the way down the front and when I grabbed it from the chair to turn it right-side out, I encountered the entire path. I jumped and ran and flailed my hand. I scrubbed my hands no less than 19 times and soaked them in pure alcohol for roughly an hour. My skin peeled off, but it was worth it.

Ehibit 2 is a fourth grader who apparently thought that sneezing and wiping his nose with his sleeve was a good idea. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a simple tickle that he was dealing with. His sneeze had unleashed an outpouring of ick that reached his chin. He proceeded to spread it from the tip of his finger to his elbow. Apparently he too thought this was gross because he then wiped his shirt on the top AND the bottom of one of my my classroom tables. I cried and cleaned the table with my tears.

And last but not least, I give you a Kindergartner. I’m not even sure what precipitated this horrific event. All I know is that I looked over and saw a child bent from the waist looking panicked because she had- you know what? Let’s not get into details. I gagged. Repeatedly. Let’s leave it at that.